Funny Moments with President Snow
by Some Call Me Tickler
Summary: A collection of  hopefully  funny oneshots concerning President Snow. Mockingjay spoilers.
1. Placing The Flowers

**A/N: Hello, all! Welcome to my new fanfic!**

**This will be a collection of (hopefully) funny oneshots concerning President Snow. Please note, this is EXTREMELY OCC. You really think in-character President Snow could be funny? **

**Also: This will probably contain many Mockingjay spoilers. So I'll put this here so if I end up forgetting and having it spoiler central, you were warned.**

**Anyway, on with the first one, I say.**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own President Snow. If I did, I think I'd sell him for slavery or something. Or kill him. Depends.

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The smell of smoke and decaying flesh filled the air, making President Snow smile. A slow, psychotic smile which would make anyone in the vicinity think _"What the hell is this guy smoking?"_

Of course, no-one _was _around. The trio who lived in District Twelve's Victor's Village weren't here, and everyone in their right mind was running from the firebombs. And rightfully so.

Snow chuckled to himself menacingly, only stopping when he had subconsciously began to drum his fingers together the way villains used to do in the old movies.

Not that Snow had been picking up tips from those old movies. Who would think such a thing?

Anyway, Snow crept into one of the houses which looked like it had been lived in recently. Luckily, he got inside Katniss' house on the first try. There was this one time he'd broken into the wrong house and scared a poor girl called Olivia with his roses. The poor girl screamed for about an hour then threw them out a window. If you looked around District Twelve for long enough (which I do not recommend) you could probably find them.

Snow crept up the stairs humming the Pink Panther theme and jumping up the stairs to the beat. And snapping his fingers.

You'd have to wonder what all those antidotes did to his brain.

After he reached the top of the stairwell, he seemed to bow to an invisible audience, as if his rendition of the Pink Panther was worthy of applause (which it wasn't. Wrong key, idiot) He brushed off his suit and sauntered down the hall as if he owned the place. Which, I guess, he technically _did_ own it, being President and all, but would you like it if he walked down your hallway like that? Yeah, didn't think so.

Snow paused in front of Katniss' bedroom door, tapping it lightly four times.

"Knock, knock," he whispered. "Oh, that's right, you're on your way to your death, Miss Everdeen. You couldn't possibly be here."

I really wouldn't feel safe with this guy running my country.

He opened the door and slipped through, resuming the humming of the Pink Panther. With the finger-snapping and the jumping to the beat. I'm pretty sure that if Katniss had seen this, she wouldn't be as scared of him as she was.

President Snow stopped in front of her dresser, where an abandoned vase of roses sat, beginning to wilt. He pulled a single white genetically enhanced rose out of a pocket on the inside of his coat. It would have been dramatic, but Snow started laughing manically again.

Way to overdo it, genius.

He placed the rose in the center of the vase, breathing in its sickly sweet smell, then running as fast as he could away from the place. It was almost as if the rose was about to explode. He stumbled down the stairs, tripping, and tumbling down to the bottom. He stood up, brushed off his suit (again) and ran out of the house towards the hovercraft that was waiting for him.

As soon as he was in the hovercraft, he breathed a sigh of relief and sat down behind the driver.

"That was a close one, eh?" he said. The driver simply rolled his eyes and wondered how people let this guy make all the decisions.

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**A/N: And that's it. Hope you liked it!**

**Just as a note: The joke about humming Pink Panther in the wrong key is a bit of a music joke, so don't worry if you're confused about that one.**

**Review?**


	2. Snowmaggedon

**A/N: Hey! Thanks heaps for all the positive reviews I got for this! I would have updated sooner, but I've been sucked in to the CHERUB series (which you should read) and I read The Lost Hero (new Rick Riordan book) and not to mention the amount of homework I got given (First week back. Not. Nice.) and all my music practice, blah, blah, blah. Not that you wanted to know that. Just thought I'd force it on you. Feel free to ignore this and skip to the chapter. I probably should have put that at the beginning, but...**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own: The Hunger Games, President Snow, or the line "This is Snowmaggedon, baby!" (I got that from a list of things that don't happen in Mockingjay from Mockingjay . Net.)

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President Snow grinned at the sight that filled the screens before him and his council.

"This seems to be going well," a man commented at the sight of District Twelve. The room was receiving a live feed of District Twelve being blown to pieces, and the only thing which could have made Snow happier than this footage would be a separate screen showing Katniss Everdeen's reaction.

"I doubt many survived," another man said, leaving Snow feeling completely giddy. Because he was odd like that.

Well, odd was probably putting it lightly. I don't think there is any word in the English language that explain just how twisted Panem's President was.

"They wouldn't have the nerve to survive," President Snow scoffed. "I'd bet good money every single one of our worthless coal miners has passed on-"

"Uh, sir?" A voice piped up from the back of the room-a young boy who Snow ignored.

"-Ceased to be, kicked the bucket! Tumbled off their mortal coil-"

"Sir!" The boy persisted.

President Snow sighed, breaking from his rant to look pointedly at the boy. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to interrupt a President's pointless rant?"

"Actually, she may have mentioned that," the boy mused. "But never mind, this is important!"

"Oh, alright then. What is it?" Snow asked.

"The bombers want to know when to stop."

Snow considered yelling, 'NEVER!' but decided it wouldn't play too well with his council unless the were as insane as he was, which was highly unlikely.

"Let them go a few more rounds, but make sure there's a big finale. Fireworks or something pretty like that."

Everyone in the room exchanged nervous glances and resisted the urge to facepalm. Some wondered if he was bipolar, which was probably true and would explain a lot.

President Snow didn't seem to notice his uncomfortable council, launching into an impromptu (and uncalled for) speech.

He rose from his chair, his so-called 'inspirational' words booming through the room.

"Let all of Panem take this as an example. The Capitol shall not fail. Its President shall not fail. For this, my friends, this is Snowmaggedon, baby!"

His speech got mixed responses.

His personal assistant (who, by the way, wanted a promotion) rose from her seat and began clapping like a child on a sugar high. Or a seal. Possibly the two combined. The rest of the room gave half-hearted claps, many trying to conceal laughter because of the last line. One man was miffed because he'd referred to them as his friends.

_Humph, friends, eh? Because he _definitely _won't blow up your house while you sleep if there's so much as a rumor that you're double crossing him, _the man thought. Of course he was right. That should probably come under Snow's list of personalities:

1. Insane Snow

2. We should kill everyone I hate Snow

3. Horrible speech writer Snow

And the list could probably go on forever, although I'm pretty sure 'Loveable Snow' is _not_ on the list.

Snow frowned at the reaction to his speech and took his seat again.

"No respect in this country," he muttered, turning his attention back to the massive screens highlighting the damage he was doing in District Twelve.

And... Cue the evil laugh.

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**A/N: And, there it is. Sorry these are so short, but if I dragged them on it would probably be horrible.**

**Anyway, if you guys have any ideas I could use, such as parts of the books I can place me incredibly OCC Snow in, it would be much appreciated,**

**Review?**


	3. Snow's got Fangirls?

**A/N: This chapter will probably be a bit weird. My friend helped me write bits of it. Hence the weirdness. As a side note, this was also written after I had finished my Social Studies exam. That probably added to the creepiness. Plus the fact that another part of it was after a Maths ASTIL (Which is New Zealand for "Shit-easy test that make the idiots feel good about themselves) And my teacher is a bit of a creepy one as well. So basically, I blame school for the creepiness of this chapter. Sorry for ranting.**

**Anyway, without further ado (not even going to comment of the lack of reviews last chapter -glare-) I give you... President Snow with fangirls.

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President Snow beamed as he walked out of the meeting room. I know what you're thinking. Snow? The Darth Vader of the Hunger Games? Smiling? (As a side note, if Snow ever said "Katniss. I. Am. Your. Father." It would be the most epic thing ever. Of all time) But Snow was happy. Actually, he was that creepy kind of happy, like, "Did he just successfully lure a child into his van or is he on drugs?" kind of happy.

Yeah, you know the type.

Anyway, he had the creepy grin on his face because he (using his awesome mind powers) had come up with a way to get rid of Katniss Everdeen.

What can I say? The guy likes to plot.

Then...

"Ohmygawsh, Snow! You're like, my hero!"

"Prez! You're like, amazing!"

"ZOMG, your hair is so white!"

Yeah, Snow has fangirls. You wish you were that awesome.

Now, the fact that President Snow has fangirls is a little overwhelming. Actually, Snow himself freaked out.

The three girls, their skin all dyed different shades of blue, surrounded the President and pretty much tackled him.

"AFFECTIONATE TACKLE TIME!" The trio squealed.

That's when Snow flipped out.

He thrashed and kicked and yelled but no-one came to his aid. They simply watched. And laughed. Then laughed some more.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE IF YOU DON'T HELP ME I WILL BRUTALLY MURDER YOUR FIRST BORN CHILD," Snow screamed. Ah, the classic President Snow death threat.

The onlookers began to move towards the huddle, smothering laughter.

"Come on girls, get off the President," a man said halfheartedly.

"But sir," the girl attached to Snow's leg pleaded. "He's my hero!"

"Our idol!" Another chirped.

"The living embodiment of hunkiness!"

"Hunkiness?" the man chuckled. "Drugs are bad, kids."

"WE'RE NOT ON DRUGS. IT'S NOT OUR FAULT WE'RE ATTRACTED TO HIM!"

"The do realize it's almost necrophilia, right?" An onlooker murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Girls, if you don't leave Mr. Snow alone I am going to have to call security," The man said.

"YOU CAN'T STOP TRUE LOVE!" One of the fangirls yelled.

"Should we take his pants off?" The girl gripping his side asked.

"No, not today," Another girl replied.

"But-"

"We'll get executed!"

"Aw c'mon! Live a little!"

"Oh, okay then," the girl agreed reluctantly.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE GET THESE MOSTROSITIES OFF ME!" Snow screamed.

"Monstrosities?" One of the girls whimpered, tears prickling her eyes.

The other two fangirls were a bit more... Persistent.

"NOTHING CAN KEEP US APART, MY LOVELY!"

"NOTHING!" Another of the fangirls repeated enthusiastically.

"Not even the Hunger Games, I mean, look at Katniss and Peeta!" The third fangirl chimed in, wiping away the tears from her face.

President Snow considered what the girls had said, and after much deliberation (Paper scissors rock with his assistant) he sentenced them to death.

They died doing what they did best, drooling over President Snow.

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**A/N: Bam. And that's that. Sorry, I don't update this much, but I just had exams. I'll try and update more, but this is one of those write-when-I-feel-like-it ones.**

**Anyway, review?**


	4. Pick Up Lines

**A/N: Wow. It's been ages since I updated this, and I apologize. **

**Oh, also, I changed my name from Oh . Glory-Genius to this; Some Call Me Tickler. Just FYI.  
**

**And the idea for this comes from a poster I have. 101 chat-up lines. So I don't own any of the lines used. I do however, own the comebacks.

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President Snow sat in his office plotting Katniss Everdeen's demise.

Which wasn't going so well.

He was beginning to remind himself of one of the more troublesome Victors from his Games, Haymitch Abernathy.

After about the fifth glass of genetically enhanced spirits (no-one even wanted to know how the genetic enhancement was _possible_) Snow was feeling rather woozy.

Drunk. That was the word. President Snow was _drunk_.

And then he decided to do the most catastrophic thing his delusional mind could think of.

He went out on the streets.

And started chatting up girls.

Being Panem's President, one would assume it would actually work out well. But when your breath reeks of blood, it cancels out any social rank you may have. Including being the all-powerful, rather insane President.

Of course, a drunk President Snow didn't know this.

Snow stumbled into the first bar he saw, and sat down next to the first girl he saw.

"Nice dress," he said. "Can I talk you out of it?"

The woman simply glared at him and walked away.

Snow, unfortunately _not_ deterred, moved on to the next woman.

"You're ugly, but you intrigue me," he told her. She shook her head and walked away, muttering "Again? Really?"

So Snow moved on to the next girl.

"So darling, want to see why girls call me tripod?" he asked, failing epically at a 'seductive' look.

The girl giggled. "You're old!" then walked away.

And Snow moved towards the next girl.

"Did the Lord steal the thunder from the skies and put them in your thighs?"

"That's insulting."

And the next girl.

"You like sleeping? Me too! We should do it together sometime."

"Stay away from me."

And the next girl.

"Those are nice jeans, do you think I could get in them?"

"Creep."

"You, me, handcuffs, and whipped cream: interested?"

"I'm interested. As long as that means you're handcuffed to a streetlamp and I'm running away laughing, spraying whipped cream all over you."

And the next girl.

"There are 265 bones in the human body. How would you like one more?"

"Would you like one of yours broken?"

And the next girl.

"Are you wearing mirrored pants? Cos I can see myself in them tonight."

"And I can see you getting kicked out of this bar for sexual harassment."

And the next girl.

"You know, you might be asked to leave this place soon. You're making the other women look really bad."

"No. Just... No."

And the next girl.

"I'm on top of things in my life. Would you like to be one of them?"

"Okay, how drunk are you?"

"I'm not drunk... I'm just intoxicated by you."

And finally...

"I am a magical being, take off your bra."

"Uh, President Snow? Um... I'm a guy. I don't wear a bra."

"How unfortunate," Snow muttered.

"Uh, how 'bout I call someone to take you home?" the man offered.

"Whatever, man."

_This is so going on my blog, _the man thought.

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**A/N: Now _that _ was fun to write. And I just realized, this President Snow reminds me of a wacked out Walter Bishop from Fringe.**

**And that last person would make sense if it was Justin Beiber. I mean, Snow mistook him for a girl. It makes sense in my mind, anyway.**

**Apologies for the late update.**

**Anyway, if you review, I love you. If you review with an idea, I love you forever, and I'll... give you a virtual hug. Not the best proposition, but hey.**


	5. A Valentine From The President

**A/N: So, I couldn't resist doing a Valentine's Day chapter. Also, thanks for all the reviews!**

**APOLOGIES FOR THE BAD POETRY. Yes, it is my own. Yes, I should be ashamed. Yes, I _am_ ashamed.  
**

**Anyway, I won't ramble. On with the chapter!

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President Snow threw his pen at the wall.

How hard could it be to write a love letter? People do it in movies, books and TV shows all the time. And they always manage to get whoever they send said love letter to.

But who knew just how hard they were to write?

He'd tried everything from:

_Roses are Red,_

_Violets are Blue,_

_I love plotting to kill Katniss Everdeen,_

_But not as much as you._

To:

_I love you lots,_

_As much as the Games,_

_But I'm not like Katniss,_

_'Cause I'm a guy._

For once, President Snow thought like an actual human being. He hated the poems he wrote. The were the most epic fail in the history of forever. For once, he was right.

However, he didn't understand the concept of 'It's-Valentine's-Day-you-have-to-do-it-yourself'. So he went and asked his assistant.

"Kyrene!" he shouted, bursting into her office. Kyrene was the latest in a long line of assistants to President Snow, and she knew of her predecessor's demise (Thrown in a vat of boiling makeup then roasted slowly on a spit over a fire.) so she knew the number one rule when dealing with President Snow. Don't kill his puppy.

"Yes, President Snow?" She sat up, ready to take whatever insane order thrown at her. Last time, he ordered Pepperoni and slices of Katniss Everdeen. On a pizza. That was a weird day.

"I want you to write a love letter for me," he declared.

Kyrene almost sighed of relief. Something at least _slightly_ normal.

"Alright. Who's it for?" She smiled, beginning to note it down on a piece of paper.

"Finnick Odair."

If she had just taken a sip of water, it would be all over her desk – and the President – in that instant. Thankfully, she hadn't. She just snorted and managed to cover it up as a cough.

_No way is he boiling me in makeup,_ she thought. _The makeup is just too precious!_

"Of course, sir. I'll get right on that," she told him, smiling.

President Snow smiled back and skipped – literally _skipped –_ back to his office.

No more crappy poem writing!

So then he decided to write a letter to go with the poem Kyrene wrote.

He actually thought it was good.

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Finnick wasn't surprised when ten letters arrived at his house in District Four. He did have millions of admirers in the Capitol.

But there was one letter that caught his eye.

From President Snow.

"The world isn't really that cruel, is it?" he muttered, opening it. He figured Snow would have him executed if he didn't read it.

It read:

_Dear Finnick Odair,_

_Don't you have lovely hair?_

_You are so very pretty,_

_When I see you in my city._

_You kill Tributes very nicely,_

_Never was it dicey,_

_An amazing Victor, you are,_

_And I am sure you will go far._

_Because Finnick, I love you,_

_And your eyes they are so blue,_

_So Happy Valentine's Day,_

_And I hope all is well, in District Four's bay._

_Finnick, I hope you liked my poem. Isn't it fantastic? All my own work. Simply inspiring._

_So, Finnick Odair, will you be my Valentine?_

_Love from,_

_President Snow,_

_Ruler of Panem,_

_Kickass Poet._

Finnick stared at the paper for a second, before collapsing to the ground in laughter.

"Finnick! What happened? Finnick?" Annie screamed, bringing Finnick back to reality.

"It's okay Annie," he said between laughs. "It's just funny."

Annie slowly stopped screeching and looked up at Finnick.

"Funny?" she asked.

"Yes, Annie," Finnick smiled at her. "Funny."

"LOL."

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**A/N: Kinda short, but I like it. And I'm pretty sure Finnick and Annie are a bit OOC here, but meh. This fanfic is just OOC in words and posted on the internet.**

**I'm posting this the day before Valentine's Day, my time, because I haven't updated this in ages and I feel guilty.**

**Also, thanks to everyone who gave me ideas! When I get around to using them, I _will_ credit you.**

**Anyway, review?**


	6. A Touch of LSD

**A/N: The idea for this chapter was given to me by d1996. I'm going to try and use all the ideas I'm given, so if you give me ideas, I will definitely _try_ to use them. No matter how insane.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own barely anything in this chapter. I own no Prez. Snow, certainly no LSD, or anything really. Huh.

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To the public, President Snow wasn't the type of person you'd pin as a druggie. Then again, they hadn't seen his erratic behaviour _without_ drugs.

So you can imagine the result when he found a box filled with LSD in a cupboard.

"What's this?" he opened the box. "Sugar cubes?"

"No don't-" his assistant who had just walked into the room ran at him as he shoved three in his mouth.

"That's LSD, President Snow," she said, snatching the box away.

"Really? Isn't that wonderful," he said, staring over her shoulder.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Just fan-_freaking-_tastic."

"That chair is breathing," he said, pointing. "Do you think he's okay? Hello! Mr. Chair! Sir! Are you okay?"

"The fact that someone's breathing is generally a _good _thing, President Snow," It took everything she had not to facepalm.

"You," he turned to her. "You are a very bright green."

"It's supposed to be blue!" she shrieked. "Why does everyone think it's green? I'll have to get it re-dyed!"

Then she left the room frantically, saying she was going to call her stylist.

And in doing that, she left President Snow alone whilst he was on an acid trip. (As a side note, the words 'President Snow' and 'acid trip' should never be used in the same sentence. Ever.)

So after that Snow started prancing around as if he was with a unicorn. But who knows _what_ he saw?

At one stage, a timid maid walked in on Snow frantically ranting about the little green and blue men who were going to infect the minds of people in the Districts, causing an uprising.

"THEY WILL DESTROY US ALL. AND THEN OUR FOOD. AND THEN THEY WILL DESTROY US AGAIN. AND THEN THEY WILL EAT ALL THE CANDY! THINK OF THE CANDY, PEOPLE! THINK OF THE CANDY!"

"Uh, Sir, are you-"

"THEY WILL DESTROY THE SUGAR CUBES. AND THE PUPPIES," Snow's tone began to calm. "Oh, and they'll kill us again. Actually, they kill us eight times. And they pretended to be our friends! It's like an octuple cross!"

"President Snow, could you-"

"NO. You could be working for _them_," he hissed, galloping, yes, _galloping_, to the other side of the room, curling up into a ball, and rocking back and forth.

"President Snow, please-"

"You're one of _them._"

"I assure you, I am n-"

"ONE OF THEM I TELL YOU," he raved, pointing at a spot about five feet away from the maid. "ONE OF THEM!"

"Sir, I'm telling you-"

"GET OUT OF HERE I DO NOT WANT TO BE INFECTED."

The maid, seeing no point in arguing with the President, ran away from the room screaming. Because honestly, if you walked in on a wacked-out President raving about conspiracies, what else _could_ you do? Well, without killing someone.

"Yeah, that's right! You can run but you can't... Run? What?" President Snow stared at the floor.

"Woah. Woah. _Woah_," he started to stagger towards the centre of the room, tripping over invisible obstacles. Then he faceplanted on the carpet. To imagine this, I want you to picture the funniest faceplant you have ever seen. Times the funny by a hundred and you get some idea of what it would have been like to be observing President Snow at that particular moment.

He whimpered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Please don't hurt me little Blue Man. Nice little Blue Man."

That's when he passed out.

He woke to someone dabbing his forehead with a cloth.

"What happened?" he slurred.

"We'd rather not go into that."

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**A/N:Drugs are bad, kids.  
**

**This was fun to write. I mean seriously, Snow on drugs? Thanks again to d1996 for the idea. Although, having never taken drugs, I'm sure I got this wrong, but who knows? Maybe Snow's just awesome enough to have his own special reaction. **

**Keep the ideas rolling in! I have a list which I'm working through, and I'll add you to it!**

**Review?**


	7. Do You Have Up Dog?

**DO YOU HAVE UP DOG?**

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President Snow was in a funny mood. Then again, he is _always_ in a funny mood.

But today, he decided to be rather, well, _youthful._

The words 'President Snow' and 'youthful' do not belong together in the same sentence. Ever.

Nevertheless, it actually happened. It came as a shock to pretty much everyone but the intoxicated, but it happened.

It started when Snow walked out of his office at the end of the day. It was around five pm, and already the nightlife was beginning to rumble, with parties starting and bars opening.

President Snow was about to join them. Dressed like a gangster.

Yeah. That wasn't a mistake. He was legitimately dressed like a gangster.

Say hello to the end of the world, boys and girls.

He had low-riding jeans halfway down his thighs, with a pair of boxers with a white rose design printed on them showing. There was a long white shirt covered with a baggy purple hoodie, along with about a tonne of 'bling' (Translation: Cheap plastic jewelery with big dollar signs and fake diamonds.)

A few people looked taken-aback as he left the office, but no-one said anything, mainly in fear that if they did, they wouldn't survive. Which was actually a fair assumption.

So he strolled out onto the street, walking with what was arguably his 'swagger'. Heads whirled towards him, but again, no-one said anything. Somehow, he was still slightly recognizable as the President.

Eventually, he made his way into a crowded bar, where two songs were almost dueling for the crowds' attention, being blasted from opposite ends of the bar. One was a horrible pop song about some person's Friday and the other sounded like a pre-pubescent girl singing about babies.

Despite the awful music, Snow began sort of bouncing along with each step. He would have told you it was dancing, but the people on the actual dancefloor begged to differ.

There were all sorts of crazy things going on in the bar, it wasn't just terrible music. There were break-dancers, waitresses spilling drinks over everyone and couples getting 'freaky' as some of the bars' inhabitants would call it.

Snow stole a drink off one of the waitress' dishes and sidled up to a guy standing by himself.

"Do you have Up Dog?" Snow asked.

"Uh, no..." the man trailed off, slowly inching away from the President.

Snow shrugged and moved across the room, ending up beside a man who was dressed like himself.

"Do you have Up Dog?" he asked again.

"What's Up Dog?"

"Nothin' much, how 'bout you?"

"Wha- Oh. Dude, that's, like, totally old. Totally."

"Your mother's old!" Snow exclaimed, running away childishly.

"Younger than you, bro!" the guy called at him, laughing.

As Snow was running, he managed to trip over a break-dancer. Let's just say it didn't go down well.

The break-dancer stood up, and Snow found that this man was extremely tall and bulky, the kind of guy you'd see in a wrestling match or prison. Or both.

He frowned at him, cracking his knuckles and trying to make Snow fear him as much as possible.

President Snow stared up and him, and managed to ask, "Do you have Up Dog?"

The man smiled suddenly and patted the President on the shoulder as if he was under ten years old.

"No," he replied. "But I know where to get some." He motioned for Snow to follow, leading him out the back door.

If that doesn't scream dodgy, I don't know what does.

But Snow, being, well, _Snow_, followed him as if it were completely routine. In fact, it probably wouldn't that surprising if it _was_ routine.

Outside, there was a group of men crowded in a circle. The first man, the break-dancer, started barking out orders.

"This man wants an Up Dog, stat."

"Regular or super?" one of the men called.

The break-dancer looked at Snow, who shrugged.

"Surprise me!"  
There was a short pause, then something flew out of the crowd of men, straight into the break-dancer's arms.

It was a black puppy with the word 'Up' shaved into its coat.

"That's four hundred and three dollars," the break-dancer look at Snow. "Cash up front."

Snow shrugged again and pulled out the cash. For some odd reason, he'd always wanted an Up Dog, and he wasn't even annoyed by the hastily shaved 'Up'.

I've said this many times; President Snow has one screwed up mind.

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**A/N: That was rather fun to write. I love asking people if they have up dog. But if they answer incorrectly (For example, one of my friends replied with "What's that?") I just glare at them and tell them they ruined everything.**

**Confusing people is so fun.**

**Also, points for anyone who can guess the two songs I was referring to at the start.**

**Review?**


	8. Bunny, Bunny

**A/N: So, I was planning on writing two other fanfictions today, but this computer won't let me access the server. So I looked through the reviews and decided I'd write the idea that seemed easiest, and hope that I can get back to the other stories later on (Those stories include a chapter of this and a Percy Jackson oneshot I've been working on for yonks.) **

**Anyway, here goes nothing.**

**This idea's from an anonymous reviewer who didn't put a name on their review. Whoever you are, thank you.**

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**BUNNY, BUNNY**

Believe it or not, President Snow was prancing through a field. A legitimate field, with long green grass and white flowers and whatnot. If I told you where in the world (or rather, Panem) this field was, I would have to kill you.

But anyway, Snow was having one of those classic movie moments of running through a field in slow-motion. Although, normally those people are running towards someone else. Snow was running towards, well, nothing. At least, not that anyone else could see. Who knows what the President saw. Maybe he was on drugs again.

But get that picture in your head. President Snow. Slow-mo running/skipping/prancing, whatever. Through a field. With actual flowers. Flowers that weren't white roses.

The only thing that was missing was dramatic music. Although, if Snow was imagining said dramatic music in his head I wouldn't be surprised.

So, this was the perfect Kodak moment – until the President tripped over a bunny, falling flat on his face. He let out a kind of 'wagh!' noise as he hit the ground, which was amusing in itself.

Then he looked at the bunny.

It was a cute bunny, no doubt about it. Wide grey eyes, dark brown, almost black fur and an innocent look on its face. (Do you even call it a face?)

"Bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny. La la, la laaa," Snow whispered softly to the animal, pinching both of his hands twice facing this mouth, then pointing them towards the bunny and repeating the action.

The bunny cocked its head to the side with an expression that clearly asked, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Snow glared back at the bunny, until he realized something. Something the bunny reminded him of.

Or rather, _someone._

Katniss Everdeen.

The bunny looked just like her. But more... Bunny-like. Snow growled just like a dog looking at the bunny that reminded him of his arch nemesis. (Don't have an arch nemesis? Your life sucks.)

The Katniss-bunny's eyes widened in fear as Snow lunged for it. It ducked to the side, and Snow had his face full of dirt.

Katniss bunny started running off into the distance, but Snow quickly stood up and chased after it, with remarkable speed for an old person.

Each time Snow caught up to the bunny, it would duck off to the side and try to throw him off course, but it was obvious it was heading somewhere in particular.

At one stage, President Snow was in front of the bunny.

"A-ha!" he cried with glee. "I have you now!"

The bunny replied by quickly running between his legs and somehow tripping him to fall on his bottom.

Snow stood up, fuming, but now the bunny was facing him.

And it had a loaded bow and arrows in its hands (paws?)

Okay, they were miniaturized, but they still gave Snow a mini heart attack when he saw them wielded by the Katniss-bunny.

"No," Snow said firmly. "Bad bunny."

The bunny seemed to do the bunny equivalent of raising an eyebrow, before firing an arrow into Snow's arm.

Snow cautiously picked the tiny arrow out of his arm. "Is that all you got?"

Katniss-bunny glared at him and let out a kind of squeaking noise, which was followed by a rumble. The ground started shaking, and all of a sudden, there were too many bunnies to count surrounding the President.

Some of them were recognizable. One was hacking at his legs with a trident, presumably Finnick Odair. Another was bludgeoning him with a broken wine bottle, probably Haymitch Abernathy. He was being pummeled with loaves of bread from the Peeta-bunny, rocks from the Thresh-bunny, and dangerously sharp flowers from the Rue-bunny. Clinging to Snow's shoulder was a brown bunny wielding an axe, unmistakeably Johanna Mason.

Swarms of other bunnies Snow didn't recognize attacked Snow, and before he knew it he was on the ground, practically bleeding to death. Blood was dripping out of almost every inch of his body, and he was long since unconscious.

The Katniss-bunny made another weird squeaking noise, and the other bunnies backed away. Katniss-bunny walked up to Snow's face and stood on his cheek, pointing her arrow into his eye, which was being held open by the Haymitch-bunny.

The bunny cleared her throat, and spoke in a voice exactly like the human Katniss.

"I kill Snow."

The bunny fired the arrow into the President's eye, and he woke with a start.

Snow was still on the field, but everything after he had tripped on the bunny turned out to be a dream. Or a nightmare.

Snow sat up abruptly, but passed out again immediately.

There was the Katniss-bunny, sniffing at his feet. When Snow's head hit the ground for a second time, with a satisfying thump, the bunny seemed to chuckle, and it hopped away.

When Snow woke again, he had to ask himself.

_Was that real? Or not real?_

* * *

**A/N: Wow, that was rather weird. But hey, I got to kill Snow. I haven't actually done that yet.**

**Unfortunately, he didn't die of laughter this time. Aw.**

**By the way, the whole thing of Snow going "Bunny bunny, bunny bunny, la la la laaa" at the start? Yeah, that's a band game we play. It's really random, but hilarious if you have a big, shameless group of people. I'm pretty sure you can Google it. If you get results of people standing in a circle shouting and jumping, you're on the right track.**

**Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter. I just wrote it in the space of about 45 minutes. **

**So, review, and hopefully I can get access to the other chapter of this I've been working on, along with that Percy Jackson oneshot. Watch this space.**


	9. Dress Shopping

**A/N: And here we go with another moment with an insane (And outrageously OOC) President Snow. The idea for this one's from Kira913. Hope you guys like it!**

**Note: I share none of Snow's interests, fashion choices etc.**

* * *

President Snow walked through the crowded mall alone, which, come to think of it, was a bad idea in itself. Crazy things always happened to Snow when he was unsupervised. He was like a toddler, only insane.

Nevertheless, no-one noticed the horrible mistake, and Snow continued walking by himself. And you know what the first store he entered sold?

Toys.

Snow wasn't just _like_ a toddler. He _was _a toddler. At least, in his mind he was.

"Oh. My. Gosh. They have Barbies!" Snow exclaimed, rushing towards the violent pink boxes encasing the dolls. Snow rushed up and grabbed the first box he saw, staring at the blonde Barbie wearing a dress that only just covered her plastic bottom, with a low-cut V-neck.

Snow smiled, taking the Barbie to the counter to buy it.

...Sometimes, I worry about that man.

The cashier beamed. "This for your granddaughter, Mr. President?" she asked.

"No," Snow grinned back at her, handing her the money. The cashier gave Snow a strange look as she handed him the doll in a plastic bag.

"Well, you have fun, then," she said warily.

"I will. Say, you wouldn't know where I could by a life size dress like the one Barbie's wearing, do you?" Snow asked.

"Uh, there's a dress shop a few meters down," The cashier answered slowly.

"Thank-you," Snow said, bowing and then sprinting out of the shop at a pace Road Runner would be jealous of. The cashier stared after him for a second, bewildered and creeped out, before turning to the next customer and smiling, thankful that this customer was a six-year-old girl.

President Snow however, was now arriving at the shop the cashier had directed him to, walking as if he still had some dignity left and he wasn't carrying a Barbie doll. As soon as Snow entered the room, the Sales Assistant was on him like a hawk.

"Hello, Mr. President. What can I do for you today?" she asked, her lipstick-y smile making her look kind of creepy.

"Hello," Snow said, imitating the tone of the woman. "I am looking for a dress like this one."

Snow held up the Barbie and pointed to its dress.

"Of course, right this way, President Snow."

The Sales Assistant dumped Snow on a plastic chair next to a homeless guy and a koala.

"Excuse me!" Snow called. "What's with the koala?"

"What's with your face?" The koala retorted.

"Shut up, Jonesy!" The homeless guy exclaimed. "That's the President!"

"Oh," Jonesy murmured. "My humblest apologies, sir."

"You're a talking koala," Snow pointed out.

"Well spotted, mate."

"You even have an Australian accent."

"Of course I have a bloody Australian accent. I am from _Australia_."

"So what are you doing here?" Snow asked.

"In a dress shop with my mate Paul here? We're just chillin'."

"Never say that in public again," the homeless guy, presumably Paul, said.

"What? I get to defy the laws of nature by being a talking _koala_, but I'm not allowed to say whatever I want? That's racism," Jonesy protested.

"It's not racism! I just-"

"-Freaking racists. Paul, the first step is admitting you have a problem," Jonesy interrupted.

There was a short pause before Paul spoke again. "Why do I even know you?"

Jonesy was about to protest when the Sales Assistant showed up again.

"Mr. President, if you could come right this way, please..."

"Oi! We've been here twice as long as this guy!" Jonesy called after her.

"Shut up, we don't serve talking koalas."

"What is it with this place and racists?" Jonesy muttered.

"What is it with you and being a talking koala?" Paul shot back.

"I was born this way."

"If you start singing Lady Gaga, I swear, I will throw you so hard into the ground you'll end up back in Australia."

Snow didn't catch the rest of Paul and Jonesy's conversation, as the Sales Assistant pushed him towards a rack of dresses.

"Sorry about those two," the lady apologized. "I've told them time and time again to go away."

"It's okay," Snow said. "It was actually nice to meet some people like me."

"Like... You? Sir?" she asked hesitantly.

Snow just smiled at her knowingly, then turned to the dresses.

"These dresses are amazing!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, yes. I even found one designed by Cinna himself! It's-"

"Burn it," Snow hissed, his tone becoming a deadly serious shard of ice.

"Excuse me? Sir?"

"Burn it," Snow repeated. It was actually rather scary how quickly his mood could change. He was either bipolar or a teenage girl.

"Oh, uh, of course. Right away, Mr. President," the lady stammered quickly. "Jenny!"

A girl who was obviously Jenny rushed in.

"What is it, Harriet?"

Snow snickered slightly at the name. _Harriet_. So old-fashioned.

"Burn this dress, would you?"

"B-but this is the one _Cinna_ designed," Jenny protested.

"Yes. Burn it," Harriet insisted.

Jenny reluctantly left, carrying the dress with her.

"Sorry, President Snow. Now, would you like to try on any of these dresses?"

"Yes," Snow answered, holding up a ghastly hot pink scrap of fabric which would have hardly been classed as a T-shirt, much less a dress.

Harriet pushed Snow towards a changing room and hurried away to help some _sane_ customers, yelling to Jenny that she was in charge of Snow from now on.

Snow, however, did not waste much time getting the dress on. When he had it on though... Simply put, he looked like a cheap hooker.

His now exposed legs were too hairy to describe, and you don't even want to know about the armpit hair.

Then there was the dress itself. It was just like the one that the Barbie was wearing, except it somehow managed to look more trashy on President Snow. How that was even possible, I have no idea.

Snow wore it proudly and stomped out of the changing room. Jenny was standing outside.

"Oh. Don't you look, uh, charming, President Snow," Jenny stammered.

"I know, right? This is _so_ my color," Snow beamed at the image of himself in the mirror, and Jenny almost puked.

"Anyway, I'll just pay for this and wear it out of here, yeah?"

"Uh, sure," Jenny said hesitantly. "The till is right over here..."

Snow followed Jenny to the till, paid for the dress and started to walk out of the shop.

"Nice look, President," Jonesy the koala called out, snickering.

"Jonesy, do you _want_ to be killed?" Paul the homeless guy warned.

"They can't kill me! It'd be racist!" Jonesy announced proudly.

"I wonder what It'd be like to live in your mind for ten minutes," Paul pondered, but President Snow didn't get to hear the answer to that question, because he was already out the door and walking to his car, scaring many young children along the way.

* * *

**A/N: And there you have it. Don't ask where the characters of Jonesy and Paul came from. Just don't. Because I don't even know. **

**Sometimes, the sheer strangeness of my mind amazes me.**

**Anyway, that was fun to write. This story usually is. It's the most random thought processes in my mind typed and posted on the internet. Kinda like my Twitter...**

**So, review, and fuel my insane mind. And thanks again to Kira913, who reviewed with the idea for this chapter. Keep the ideas coming, and I'm working through them, I swear.**


	10. Legalizations

**A/N: Apologies for the lack of updates. I have been busy (If you read my other, serious story, my excuses are on the latest chapter of that.)**

**But anyway, I'm trying to write this one really quick, because I'm also working on a chapter for this which will take me ages, but I figured I'd better update soon so you didn't think I was dead.**

**The idea's based from one of d1996's ones, so thanks for that**

* * *

**LEGALIZATIONS**

It was a good day in the office for President Snow. Today was the one day of the year he got to revise all of Panem's laws.

So, naturally, everyone feared this day. Well, everyone who knew what Snow was like, anyway.

He sat at his polished desk and stared at the paper in front of him, full of existing laws. Snow took a pen and scribbled at the top:

_President Snow is the most awesome President ever, and failure to accept this is punishable by death._

Snow smirked and dropped the pen, satisfied. He scanned over some of the other laws, boring stuff like, _"The Districts are not to incite an uprising" _and _"You can whip people in the Districts for having wild turkey."_

Snow scribbled more laws down at the bottom of the page.

_'Your mother' is not an acceptable comeback._

_Throwing things at Katniss Everdeen is compulsory._

_Bonus points if you hit Peeta Mellark._

_One drag queen must be on duty in the Capitol at all times._

Snow paused for a second, thinking. He looked up at the other laws and began making alterations. He crossed out the words: _Drugs are illegal. _And wrote above it: _Screw it, DRUGS ARE LEGAL, BABY!_

After making some other alterations to Panem's laws (Several of which hinted to the demise of Katniss Everdeen) he folded the paper into a plane and threw it out the door, so it landed on his secretary's desk. It may or may not have missed by about five meters and Snow may have had to yell at his secretary to pick it up.

Snow didn't really think about what he'd done until he was walking the streets a few weeks later.

There were druggies everywhere, along with drag queens and people throwing things at each other.

"I thought you were Katniss!"

"You look like Peeta! I was going for the bonus points!"

"Woah, dude, you are _so_ stoned."

"Drugs are legal though!"

"WHY AREN'T YOU ALL RUNNING FROM THE DRAGON?"

Snow snickered. He did this. He wrote a few words on a piece of paper, and now the Capitol was going crazy.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Of course, this scene could be used as a metaphor for what actually happens in Snow's mind on a daily basis. All chaos and imaginary dragons and stuff.

"Um, President Snow?" Someone called.

"Yes?" Snow asked impatiently.

"Well, uh, I think you should revise the laws again," Snow realized who was talking then. It was his advisor.

"Why?" Snow snapped.

"Well-"

"-If you don't like it, ride a unicorn to fairyland!" Snow cut him off.

"Sir, I don't have a unicorn handy," the advisor (Whose name was Darryl) protested.

"Your life means nothing," Snow spat, started to walk away from Darryl.

"Because I don't have a unicorn with me?" Darryl called, chasing after Snow.

"Pretty much."

"Why do our conversations always lack any form of logic or sense?"

Snow shrugged.

"Okay, just, we have to change the laws back," Darryl said.

"Fine," Snow pouted, looking like a three-year-old.

Darryl straightened his suit. "Good."

* * *

**A/N: Some of that was copied and pasted from a conversation with my friend on Facebook, while I was writing this. I sent the line "If you don't like it, ride a unicorn to fairyland!" and Darryl said her replies, with me being Snow and some slight edits.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and thanks again to d1996 for the idea.**

**Also, the serious story I mentioned earlier is a Hunger Games one, called the Shadow of Rebellion, and if you check it out, I will love you forever -shameless plug-**

**Review?**


	11. Happy Birthday To You

**A/N: I'm really good at remembering things like Fanfiction (Note sarcasm) Okay, I apologize for not updating in forever. And I would now like to present you with a shameless birthday chapter because was my birthday on the 4th.**

**Oh, and warning for swearing.**

* * *

President Snow didn't quite know why he invited almost every living Hunger Games victor to his birthday party, mainly because they had horrible taste in presents. First off, Peeta gave him a basket of bread. Who gives _bread_ as a gift? Katniss innocently said she helped bake the bread and ran away with Peeta before Snow could kill them both.

Finnick, Annie and Mags gave him a net full of dead fish. Admittedly, Snow should've seen this coming from District Four, especially since his disastrous incident involving Finnick on Valentine's Day, so he let it slide, for once.

From District Three, Wiress and Beetee had given the President some electronic gizmo which Beetee tried to explain, but Snow knew that it would be thrown away or given to some distant relative because it was simply not user-friendly. (Although, the gizmo in question had a rather simple purpose, and only an ON/OFF switch.)

Johanna Mason had given the President a rotten log, which somehow, he adored.

"Johanna, you are amazing!" Snow almost cried with glee. "This is exactly what I wanted!"

Johanna gave Snow an odd look before running away as fast as possible.

Cashmere and Gloss gave Snow a velvet pillow, which Snow immediately dubbed his 'Cuddle-buddy', much to the siblings' horror. They made some quick excuses and ran away from President Snow as if he were an armed bomb.

Chaff and Seeder handed over a cornucopia filled with fresh fruit and vegetables, which Snow took as an insult to his health, so Chaff and Seeder had to run for it.

Enobaria and Brutus wheeled in a marble statue of President Snow, which he loved and everyone else hated.

Then, Haymitch held out a small bottle of spirits, half empty, because Haymitch had decided he was in more need of it than Snow, and was now teasing him with it.

"Here you go. HA! KIDDING!" He took a giant swig, laughing maniacally. Snow stared at him with his best unimpressed face and pulled a glass of champagne off the bench beside him, taking a sip.

"Bitch, please," Snow smirked at Haymitch, who shrugged.

"Your loss," he took another gulp off spirits down and walked away.

The rest of the night continued flawlessly, in Snow's opinion. So basically, Haymitch got completely drunk and started yelling at everyone, Johanna decapitated Snow's new sculpture and Wiress started mumbling about doorbells.

Music blared throughout the 'party-room'. Snow danced for hours – but he was the only one dancing.

"What is he doing?" Katniss murmured to Peeta.

Peeta shrugged. "Is he drunk?"

"No. Look to your left," Katniss said simply. Peeta turned.

"Oh. Why do we even let Haymitch out of District Twelve?" Peeta asked, a look of disgust on his face.

"Who knows?" Katniss spared a glance over her shoulder and shuddered. "I will never look at candles the same way again."

"I'll never look at _Haymitch_ the same way again. He doesn't usually get this crazy."

"Tell me about it," Katniss muttered.

"Hey! Fire-Girl and Bread-Boy. Get over here!" Haymitch slurred.

"You can look after him," Katniss gave Peeta a knowing smile, then scowled back at Haymitch. "Will you ever be sober after this?"

"Probs not," Haymitch grinned.

"Thought so," Katniss wandered off.

Haymitch sauntered up to President Snow with a fake air of superiority.

"Why helloooo there," Haymitch gave Snow a wobbly bow.

"I'm not talking to you," Snow huffed in a childish voice. "You stole my present."

"You were naughty," Haymitch matched Snow's tone.

"BUT IT'S MY BIRTHDAY." Snow screamed. "NOT GIVING ME PRESENTS MEANS DEATH."

"Bring it!" Haymitch tossed away a bottle no-one knew he'd been holding, and held his arms out in the international 'Come-at-me-bro' stance. President Snow lunged and knocked both Haymitch and himself to the ground. They began to throw wild punches at each other, squabbling, when Wiress yelled out.

"DOORBELL."

Just then, the doorbell actually rang. Everyone turned and looked quizzically at Wiress, who jumped in the air.

"CALLED IT!" She started fist pumping and doing some kind of happy dance. Haymitch and President Snow paused their fight to look at her. Then, everyone looked at Beetee, who just shrugged.

"Isn't anyone going to get the door?" he asked.

President Snow dragged himself up off the ground and ran to the door, yanking it open.

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

Four men dressed in bright red suits sang their greeting in four-part harmony.

"I didn't order a barbershop quartet!" Snow yelled, trying to slam the door on the quartet. The one in the front stuck his foot in the door and yanked it open again.

"You're just jealous of our intense singing ability," they sang.

"NO!" Snow yelled. All the screaming and singing had attracted some of the guests into the entrance hall.

"Who is it?" Haymitch asked. "Yes! The Barbershop Quartet didn't think I was a drunken prank call!"

"_You_ called them?" Snow whirled and glared at Haymitch.

"Yep," Haymitch grinned. "Take it away, boys!"

The barbershop quartet began to sing, dancing as they marched past President Snow.

"Isn't that brilliant?" Haymitch said turning back to a fuming Snow.

"I knew I should've poisoned your drink!" Snow screamed lunging at Haymitch again.

Just then, Katniss rounded the corner, dragging Peeta along behind her.

"Haymitch, get off the President, we're leaving," she said in a forceful voice.

"You can't leave until I say so," Snow stood up and crossed his arms.

"According to Effie, we're on a tight schedule," Katniss matched Snow's intense glare.

Snow narrowed his eyes. "Alright then. Happy Hanukkah."

"Uh, thanks," Peeta smiled in a confused way until Katniss elbowed him in the gut.

"Let's go. Get up off the ground Haymitch," Katniss said stiffly. Peeta helped him up and they dragged him out the door.

"A Barbershop Quartet, Haymitch? Really?" Katniss hissed.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Haymitch shrugged.

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Let's just get out of here. Don't come crawling to my mother in the morning with a hangover."

"I don't get hungover," Haymitch protested. "I stay drunk!"

"_That_ I can believe."

Back in Snow's mansion, many of the guests were following District Twelve's lead.

"Clock!" Wiress said in parting, followed by a slightly embarrassed Beetee.

"Later, Snow," Johanna smashed one of the windows and jumped out into the bed of white roses below it.

"NOT MY FLOWERS!" Snow yelled, but Johanna was already as far away as possible.

Snow sighed and waved the other guests away dismissively.

When he woke up in the morning, gathered around Snow was the barbershop quartet.

He glanced at each of their faces, which all looked surprisingly creepy in the morning light.

To this day, no-one is quite sure what happened, but the barbershop quartet ended up as obstacles in the next Hunger Games, where they were all turned into singing roses, and were subsequently killed by that year's tributes.

* * *

**A/N: You can thank the playlist on my iPod entitled "Hmm" for this chapter. Even though it's full of love songs. Plus the occasional random song (For instance, 'Like A Boss' by The Lonely Island is in that playlist, alongside my only Taylor Swift song and various songs from the Shrek soundtracks.) But anyway. Apologies for not updating in forever, and please do not kill me. And don't even ask where the barbershop quartet came from.  
**


	12. Everyone Hates Exams

**A/N: Another chapter. Because my mother wants me to study for my exams, I decided Snow would do it for me. 'Cause the President of Panem has to be smart, right? **

**LOL NOPE.**

**Also, Snow's granddaughter makes a cameo in this one, so she's almost exactly the same as in my other story, but younger.**

**If you catch the very slight reference to The Lost Hero in the form of a character, you are amazing. Also if you catch the Doctor Who reference. Basically, I make a lot of references because references are as cool as fezzes.**

* * *

"WHO INVENTED TRIGONOMETRY? I WILL DEVOUR THEIR SOULS," Snow screeched after being shut up in his office for about ten minutes. Someone had played a rather nice trick, by telling Snow he had external assessments coming up, and if he failed, all the people he killed would rise from the dead and take their revenge. Though it was possibly the most obvious prank anyone had ever played on Snow, he fell for it, and now, he was studying.

Ten minutes in, he was already sick of sines, cosines and tangents. Actually, he was sick of triangles full stop.

_Who decided it would be a good idea to cut squares in half? _Snow pondered. _Bet it was those damn Hipsters..._

There was a knock on the door, and the head of Snow's assistant, Mellie, appeared.

"President Snow, your granddaughter is here to see you," she said, conveniently ignoring the fact that Snow had been yelling everyone's ears off not ten seconds ago.

Snow grunted. "Send her in."

Fourteen-year-old Jessamine Snow came out from behind Mellie. "Yo, Gramps."

"Yo yourself," Snow replied, looking back down at the maths in disgust. Jessamine took a seat next to him and looked at the paper.

"You're yelling at Trig?" She scoffed. "Trig's _easy_."

"Lies. All lies," Snow muttered.

Jessamine looked further down the sheet. "Don't tell me you can't do Pythagoras either."

"Nope," Snow smirked. "Who cares about some dusty old guy's theorem?"

"Um, examiners? And you shouldn't talk about being dusty and old," Jessamine laughed.

"BUT I AM HIP."

"Clearly," she rolled her eyes at her grandfather and his inability to comprehend sarcasm. "Look, A squared, plus B squared, equals C squared. What's so hard about that?"

Snow remained silent, and Jessamine sighed.

"There is actually no point in me explaining this to you, I will get nowhere," she said, flicking the piece of paper behind her. "How are we even related?"

"Genetics," Snow answered.

"That question was rhetorical, but okay."

"No, Genetics. That's what the next sheet says."

"Oh, good, you can read," Jessamine looked at the sheet. "Which is the dominant allele, brown eyes or blue eyes?"

"Blue eyes," Snow replied instantly. "Blue eyes are prettier."

"You know, if Grandma were still alive, she'd kill you for that comment," Jessamine rolled her eyes. "And by the way, you were wrong."

"Seriously?"

"That's what I just said, wasn't it? The correct answer is brown eyes," Jessamine frowned, looking down at the next sheet. "Micro-Biology?"

"Viruses are cool," Snow nodded. "I think I'd like to be a virus."

"You do realise the only thing a virus can do is reproduce, right?" Jessamine stared at her grandfather incredulously. "That's the only life process it possesses."

"Shut up. It's cool. Viruses are cool."

Jessamine rolled her eyes and looked back down at the sheet. "The Carbon Cycle. Know anything about that?"

"Nope."

"Do you actually know _anything_?"

"Why do you think I'm studying?" Snow gave Jessamine a very hypocritical _are-you-stupid _look.

Jessamine sighed. "How did you even graduate high school?"

"With great skill and finesse," Snow smirked. "And also my uncanny knack for cheating."

"Why am I not surprised?" Jessamine essentially facepalmed. "Why am I even doing this?"

Snow stared intently at a picture of a virus while Jessamine looked through the other sheets.

"Oh, come on," she almost shouted. "Basic addition? Are you retarded?"

"Quite possibly, yes."

"Algebra, Chemistry, Magnetism, Electricity, Jibberish. Hang on, you can't _study_ Jibberish!"

"Can and do," Snow smiled.

"Uh, no. It is physically impossible," Jessamine protested.

"I got a doctorate in Jibberish," the President said matter-of-factly.

"No, you didn't."

"Eh, blargy flout mu anft garth."

"That's it, I can't do this," Jessamine stood up and promptly left.

"Can you call for a tutor or something?" Snow yelled after her.

A few minutes later, after Snow had been staring at an algebra question wondering what letters were doing in Maths, Mellie the assistant came back in.

"Uh, sir, Jessamine said you needed a tutor and-"

"Yes?"

"I failed everything in high school. So I'm helping you!" She declared brightly.

"Explain algebra to me," Snow ordered.

Mellie took one look at the equation (_x + _2 = 5, find _x_) and threw her hands up in desperation. "It's too hard!" she squealed, half running, half trotting out of the room in ridiculous high heels.

Snow stared after his assistant, wondering if he could escape Maths the same way she did. For some reason, Snow chose that moment to think sanely, and decided against running out of the room in high heels. Instead, he turned the page over and wrote.

_42 ÷ 0_

He figured that was the best way to escape study.

* * *

**A/N: There you go. Not the longest chapter, but meh. Holidays render my brain dead. I'm just gonna blame it on all the rugby players in my country at the moment. As a side note, go the All Blacks. If you lose to France... I don't even want to think about it. Wow. Talking about Rugby in an Author's Note. I must be insane. Possibly as insane as Snow...**

**ANYWAY.**

**50 reviews? I love you guys...**


	13. Presidential Debate

**A/N: For the record, I have almost no idea how political debates work. I know there's a lot of bullshitting, but that's about it. And I have a hard time understanding how politicians work. (So, if I hate on this one person, I get more votes? Derp, derp.)**

**Anyway. Snow in a debate. How he became President of Panem is still a fact that eludes me.**

* * *

**PRESIDENTIAL DEBATE**

"The fact remains that I am simply more awesome than my opposing candidate Mr. What's-His-Face over here."

The other man glowered at Snow from his podium, as cameras flew around the brightly-lit stage like bees, and a smiling Caesar Flickerman stood between the two men.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Mr. Snow. You see-" The man began to object, but Snow had stuck his fingers in his ears and began singing a song about narwhals.

The other man, obviously perturbed, but trying not to show it, continued on about policies and other boring politician stuff, whilst Snow continued to sing.

"_Narwhals, narwhals, swimming in the ocean!"_

"And I will provide free health care-"

"_Causing a commotion, 'cause they are so awesome."_

"Which will only apply to Capitol citizens-"

"_Narwhals, narwhals, swimming in the ocean."_

"And the Districts will get less rights-"

"_Pretty big and pretty white, they beat a polar bear in a fight."_

"Even though they have no rights-"

"_Like an underwater unicorn."_

"And there will also be tax cuts-"

"_They've got a kick-ass facial horn."_

"And I'll make some promises-"

"_They're the Jedi of the sea."_

"And-"

"_They stop Cthulu eating ye!"_

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP?"

Snow pulled his fingers out of his ears, startled. "Did you say something?"

The other man looked at Snow as if he were retarded.

"Oh, well, my policies involve lots of free stuff, narwhals and dragons. And roses. Don't forget the roses," Snow explained, and the audience - which no-one had actually noticed before now – cheered.

"Oh, come on!"

"What can I say, Mr. I-Don't-Know-Your-Name. The people love me!" Snow held his arms out triumphantly to the crowd, which reacted immediately with applause.

The other man glowered at Snow. "My name is Bob! How can you forget a three-letter name?"

"Well, I know one really long name. Slartibartfast. I don't think I can manage any more names after that one," Snow shrugged. "Besides, what does it matter to you, Bill?"

"Bob."

"Whatever."

"By the way, your policies suck."

The audience gave a collective gasp, along with Snow. "Are you- Are you insulting the narwhals?"

"I-"

"You just lost every vote from District Four!" Snow jeered. "Joke's on you!"

"District Four can't even vote!"

"Shh. They're not supposed to _know _that their votes don't count," Snow glared at Bob.

"Isn't that contradicting of the whole point of an election?"

"Not really. Elections have always been regarded as a festival of lies and empty promises," Snow said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You just admitted that you lie," Bob pointed out.

"Still not as bad as hating on narwhals," Snow shot back.

"So you admit you lie?"

"So you admit you hate narwhals?" Snow gasped. "You're a monster!"

"I- no!"

"Monster! Monster!" Snow screeched.

"_Monster! Monster! Down with the monster!" _The crowd chanted. Bob tried to regain the trust of the crowd, but it was too late. Snow had already left, and could still be heard screaming his chant as he ran all the way back to his home, or, as he called it, his 'Humble Abode'.

A few days later, Bob was found dead with a narwhal lying beside him, trying to clean the blood off of its horn. Snow, now a President, won the election by default, but would have won it anyway, due to his unexpected popularity.

In the end, life under President Snow meant that Narwhals got more rights than most citizens of Panem, excluding those of the Capitol. Dragons were also granted more rights, but were not sighted until the next year's Hunger Games, in which they made an appearance, at the President's own request.

* * *

**A/N: Pure insanity fueled this chapter. Apologies for the shortness. Points for the people who catch the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference. **

**Also, Google 'Narwhals' for the narwhal song, as quoted in this chapter. It is epic. **

**As a side note, I have school camp next week, but I actually have no idea where I'm going. Yay, Amazing Race Camp. Awkward if people get eliminated though. "What are you doing back at school?" "Oh, got eliminated from my camp." "Which you paid for?" "Yup."  
**

**Anyway, review? Please? Make my sleep-deprived thought processes that I typed out qualify as a sort-of story?**


	14. A Very Snowy Christmas: Part One

**A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE.**

* * *

Picture this scene: The clichéd Christmas scene of a cozy-looking room with a fire burning away and a decorated tree in the corner. Through a window, you can see snow falling down softly.

Then you see Snow falling down heavily.

President Snow.

The events leading up to the President's predicament were surprisingly enough, more entertaining than Snow making a fool of himself.

It started out on Saturday night – Christmas Eve. Snow was lazing around in his office, while a whole bunch of other people planned his Christmas, which involved a public address, a party with a few Hunger Games victors, and avoiding fangirls.

So, Christmas for Snow was like an average day. But with more presents.

At least, that was how he planned it.

"Well, I think I'm gonna call it a night. I've been working hard today," Snow yawned, standing up. He didn't mention that he hadn't done anything at all the entire day, except maybe eat and sleep and laugh at other people.

The thing was, absolutely no-one goes to sleep at five pm, except maybe toddlers. And though you could compare Snow's mental capacity with that of a toddler, he didn't sink so low as to mimic their sleeping patterns. Usually.

So, long story short, Snow snuck out. Despite the fact that not a single person cared, he still stalked out of the building while wearing a ninja outfit.

To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if this is epic or just Snow being insane.

Snow ended up at some random person's party, where everyone was dressed up like either Santa Claus, a reindeer, or anything else remotely Christmas related.

Bear in mind, Snow was still dressed like a ninja.

"Yo, Snowy!" A voice called, causing the President to whirl. It was kind of sad to see a ninja caught off-guard, which is why Snow should never be allowed to wear a ninja suit ever again.

"Ah, knew it was you! Guys, this is my homedog."

"Jonesy. Shut up."

Snow stared at the group of people – plus one talking koala – with a perplexed look on his face.

"Paul, you know _nothing_. Hell, you think Christmas is in the winter!"

"That's because it's winter _now_," Paul hissed.

"Nonsense. Christmas is meant to be spent in Summer, on the beach with surfing and stuff. None of this 'Let's-Huddle-Round-The-Fire' crap."

"What?" Snow asked, still extremely confused.

"Mate, I'm Australian. We do holidays right."

"You do holidays upside-down, more like," Paul muttered.

Jonesy glared at Paul. "I really don't want to admit that that was kind of witty."

"Was it?" Snow gave the pair an odd look.

Jonesy turned to Snow. "Look, Snow, you should know that Christmas just doesn't happen in winter!"

"Christmas is _always_ in winter. _Always_," Snow looked down on Jonesy menacingly.

"I'm just saying, it ain't Christmas without dingoes stealing babies."

Jonesy and Paul exchanged a look, and then burst out into peals of laughter. It was one of those moments where you take a step back and go 'Aww, they don't _really_ hate each other.'

Snow then left with surprisingly few accusations of being a racist from Jonesy, and went back to his mansion because frankly, conversations with Jonesy demanded to be ended by the prompt leaving of wherever the damn koala was.

Too bad Snow got kidnapped on the way home.

That's right. The President, _still_ dressed like a ninja, got kidnapped.

Well, kidnapped is probably the wrong term. Conscription is probably more accurate.

And you know what?

Personally, I think Snow suited the Santa suit much more than the ninja suit.

I'll skip over the part where Snow was actually getting into the suit, because honestly, it only involves a lot of screaming, death threats, and high pitched girly wailing. Not that Snow would admit to the last one, of course.

So Snow ended up walking the streets dressed as Santa Claus, handing out candy and cheap toys to children. And people who acted like children.

"Is that... Snow?" A familiar voice whispered.

"No. Can't be. Is it?" A male voice answered, his voice full of skepticism.

"Uh, President Snow?" The first voice asked.

"What are you doing?" The other person whispered urgently. "Are you forgetting he _threatened_ you. With your life. And my life. And everyone else's life."

"Hi," Snow said, walking up to the couple. He nodded at the two of them in turn. "Katniss. Peeta."

"Um, I guess... Merry Christmas?" Peeta offered, and for a guy who was usually good with people, he was kind of failing.

Snow resisted the urge to yell "Bah, Humbug" and offered them candy. Because that's what pedophi – I mean Presidents – do.

Katniss politely declined and made up an excuse to leave. ("Um, we've got to go, uh, bake stuff. Well, Peeta does. I'm supervising. Bye.")

A few more hours of handing out candy passed, and somehow, in those few hours, Snow ended up unconscious on a sidewalk.

Who knew five-year-olds could beat up a creepy President?

"Get up."

Snow groaned. The sidewalk was becoming increasingly comfortable, which probably wasn't a good thing.

"Get up."

Another groan. Well, it was more of a whimper, really. How did Snow become President again?

"Get. Up."

Snow let out another pathetic groan, which was then met with a hard kick in his stomach.

"Ow!" His eyes flew open in a split second, and Snow looked up at his attacker, annoyed. "What was that for?"

The man sighed. "Get up."

Snow, still lying on the ground, placed his hands on his hips and said in the tone of a four-year-old, "Well what if I don't want to?"

The man answered with another kick to the stomach. "Do you want me to kick lower? You look like you'd make a good soprano vocalist."

Snow started to stand up as the man wound his leg back for another shot.

"Damn, I was kinda hoping you'd ignore me. We need a new soprano for our barbershop quartet."

"Wait. You're from-"

"That Barbershop Quartet you killed? Sort of. Those guys were my brothers. And my dad. And the random guy we found off the street."

"So... You're rebuilding?"

"Pretty much."

And that was the last thing Snow remembered before being knocked out for the second time that day.

* * *

When he finally woke up, he was in the room described earlier. The Clichéd-Christmas-Scene one.

"Wha-?"

A man – the same one as before – shoved a book full of music into Snow's hands.

"Go home. Learn the music. We have a concert tomorrow."

Then, Snow was promptly shoved out the door, an action which directly resulted in him faceplanting the icy pavement. I won't go into detail about the rest of Christmas Eve night, because to be honest, President Snow was pretty boring. He went home, ignored the sheet music from the random quartet guy and went to bed.

Christmas Day was where it got interesting.

* * *

**A/N: I hope everyone's enjoying the holiday season! And can I just say, Summer Christmases are epic. 10 points to the Southern Hemisphere!**

**I'll upload part two on Christmas Day, my time. (As a side note, New Zealand gets Christmas first, time-wise. Jealous?)**

**Also, I mean no offense to any Australians. Or koalas. Or Barbershop Quartets. Or ninjas.  
**


	15. A Very Snowy Christmas: Part Two

**A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS.**

* * *

Where we left our hero – that is to say, if anyone could ever call President Snow a hero, and preferably someone who was _not_ a fangirl – it was Christmas Eve and he'd been enlisted as a member of a Barbershop Quartet and fired as a ninja.

On Christmas morning, the day was considerably different.

Being woken up by a teenage girl really _wasn't_ what Snow had in mind.

Then again, his plan had been to ignore absolutely every part of his planned day. He should've known it would be enforced.

"Gramps. Get your ass out here. It's Christmas," Jessamine yelled as she banged loudly on Snow's bedroom door.

"Blarg. Futie garth hnggg."

"Shut up with the Jibberish," Jessamine sighed. "Why is it we never have a normal Christmas?"

President Snow suddenly appeared at the door with a mischievous look on his face.

"What?" Jessamine asked, clearly perplexed.

"Presents!" Snow exclaimed, eyes wide. His granddaughter rolled her eyes mumbling something about how she was more mature than her _grandfather_. The President pushed past Jessamine and slid down the stair railings to be in the living room, right in front of the Christmas tree. He sat, staring at the tree intently and ignoring the rest of the people in the room as Jessamine walked slowly up behind him.

"Yes, he is always like this," Jessamine announced, giving an answer to all the weird looks both her and her grandfather were getting. "You can open the presents now, Gramps."

Snow's eyes lit up as he tore into the first box.

"Ugh. Suit. Boring."

"Hmm. White rose. Classy."

"Updog? I have one of these."

"Sugar cubes?"

"A poster full of pick-up lines? This could be useful..."

"I HATE BUNNIES."

"Ooh, pretty dress."

"A Guide To Setting And Breaking Laws in Panem? Too bad I don't read..."

"A Barbershop Quartet outfit? Really?"

"Test results! I really worked hard for that D-minus."

"Fireworks? Okay..."

"I ALWAYS WANTED A PET NARWHAL."

"A letter from a fangirl? Gross."

"A Valentine? What?"

And so on. Eventually though, President Snow was finished opening all of his presents and he had to figure out what he was going to do next.

"Mr. President? Your public address is in one hour. Your stylist just arrived."

"Yes, yes, send her through," Snow waved the secretary away, turning to the other people still in the living room. "You never breathe a word of what you just saw to _anyone_."

The other people nodded quickly, and Jessamine simply rolled her eyes. She was long since used to the insanity of her grandfather.

Snow promptly left for what his stylist had dubbed 'The Makeover Room!' (Yes, the exclamation mark was necessary.)

"Oh, hello Coriolanus!" Snow's stylist, a woman who simply called herself 'Pinky' exclaimed. Actually, everything she said was said in a perky voice that, when translated onto paper, demanded exclamation mark.

Snow nodded in response to Pinky's greeting, and ignored her as she babbled on and on for the next fifty-five minutes, until Snow's secretary called for him.

"You're on in five minutes!" She yelled, hurrying him into the room next door. The set up was not unlike that of the final interviews with the victors of the Hunger Games. Snow quickly sat himself down on the chair in front of the camera. The cameraman counted back from five and the video began streaming out to Panem.

"Greetings to all of you, in this great country of Panem. Uh, Merry Christmas. I think," Snow turned to someone off-camera. "Is today actually merry?"

"Um, sure."

"Okay, folks, today's supposed to be merry. Capitol rules, Districts suck, have a great Christmas," Snow stood and left the room abruptly. What kind of message he was trying to send, he had no idea – he just knew walking out of a room quickly after saying stuff was completely badass.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Christmas is the absolute _best_ excuse for being drunk."

"Haymitch, you're going to regret this tomorrow. It's noon."

"Who _cares_? This is _brilliant_. La di da di! Woo!"

Katniss and Peeta exchanged looks. They'd been at Snow's Christmas lunch for a grand total of one hour, and Haymitch was drunk. To their own credit, they weren't completely surprised. They were just hoping for Haymitch to have _some_ dignity when they left.

Unfortunately, President Snow chose right then to walk up. And everyone knows a conversation between Snow and Haymitch always incites craziness.

"Hi."

"If you're from the Capitol," Haymitch slurred. "Then _why_ is your_ hair_ so _white_?"

Snow's eyes widened. "Someone else asked me that once. They died."

"Okay, okay, we're leaving," Katniss stepped between the two men. "Haymitch, _please_ don't tell me there's another Barbershop Quartet on the way."

"Damn. Forgot to call 'em."

"Thank-you. Now let's go," and with that, Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta (Who had remained surprisingly silent,) left Snow's mansion.

Snow spent the rest of the day wandering around his mansion, avoiding his party. And fangirls. Mainly because his party was invaded by fangirls wanting what they asked Santa for. It wasn't until a dark cloth bag went over Snow's head did he remember the Barbershop Quartet.

_Nobody expects the Barbershop Quartet,_ he thought to himself. Then passed out, because frankly, it's harder to kidnap someone who's unconscious. According to President Snow, anyway.

* * *

He was in the room again. Cozy-Christmas-Room.

"Did you practice?" There were three other people in the room. Men.

"What?"

Someone gasped. "He didn't! Oh, we are so _screwed_!"

"Cool it, Rodney. Everyone knows the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody. We'll be fine."

"Everyone knows the lyrics to Boho Whatata?" Snow looked up from where he lay on the floor.

"Shoot me now."

"It's too late now. We'll have to wing it," the man sighed. "Get up, Snow."

The President stood, still extremely confused. "Where are we going?"

"The roof."

"I hate going on roofs."

"Too bad."

With that, the other three men marched him up a couple of flights of stairs. As he walked, Snow realised he was wearing clothes that matched those of the other men.

"I'm not _unique_!" He wailed.

"Shut up, will you?"

"But-"

"We're here."

Sure enough, the quartet were in open air. A small crowd stood below, murmuring Christmassy things.

Rodney cleared his throat loudly, and the other two members of the quartet looked at him and nodded. Snow stared at the edge of the building, which was way to close for his liking.

"_Is this the real life?"_

"What?"

"_Is this just fantasy?"_

"Well, it certainly feels pretty real and _high_ up here, if you don't mind me say-"

"_Caught in a landslide."_

"What? Where?" Snow looked around nervously, as if he was expecting to actually see a landslide.

"_No escape from reality."_

"This isn't reality?"

"_Open your eyes."_

"They are!"

"_Look up to the skies and see."_

Snow looked up, almost obediently, and took a step forward, as if he realised that the quartet's plan had been for him to sing this part.

"I'm just a poor- Agh!"

Apart from Snow being tone deaf, that step forward he took ended up sending him down the side of the building. The music stopped, and everyone laughed as Snow hit the ground with a satisfying thump.

The man who had kidnapped Snow on Christmas Eve looked down at him.

"Don't mess with a Barbershop Quartet, bitch."

Though Snow being called a bitch in itself is hilarious (Snow's a bitch, tee-hee,) people were either laughing at Snow's fall or worrying about him.

Or, in Jonesy and Paul's case, yelling at Snow that he "Should've put more grace into it."

"Snow! Are you okay? Hey, you're like, the living embodiment of hunkiness. Did you know that?"  
After that, Snow got up and ran away, screaming "FANGIRLS!" at the top of his lungs.

My, is it great to be the President.

* * *

**A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! I hope you all have a wonderful day. And if you haven't heard "Safe and Sound" yet, it's the first song they've released off the Hunger Games movie soundtrack. It's by Tay-Tay Swifty and The Civil Wars. It's actually amazing and makes me want to cry. Crying's not exactly what you want to do on Christmas, but hey. It sounds pretty.**

**At the beginning of this chapter, notice I make a reference, even if it's slight, to every other chapter in this story, excluding Chapter 14. And if anyone catches the very slight Buffy reference, you are my hero.**

**Also, I want to thank all of you guys for reading and reviewing this story, or as I like to call it "Tickler's Random Thought Processes Posted On the Internet". Even though I am quite possibly the worst updater in the history of forever.**

**So, again, Merry Christmas. May the Force be with you.**


	16. A New Year

**A/N: For the record, this was me on New Year's Day:**

**Small Part of My Brain: You should update.**

**Rest of Me: Ugggggghhhhhhh -sleeps-**

**This was me on the second:**

**READINGMARATHON YEEEAAAHHHH. (By the way, read Divergent. It is actually awesome.)**

**And me when I started writing this chapter:**

**I should update... WHY ARE ALL OF THE COMPUTERS IN MY HOUSE BEING USED? **

**Then, well, you get the idea.**

**Anyway. Happy (Very Late) New Year.**

* * *

President Snow was standing in the middle of a packed street-party on New Year's Eve. While people danced and babbled excitedly and made disgusting milkshakes with copious amounts of oven spray and random food items, he just stood there.

Now, if this were a movie, or TV show, everyone would be going 'Wow, that's ominous!'

But, unfortunately, this was not a movie or TV show, so President Snow just looked like a twat.

"Woah, dude?" A random guy slurred as he looked at Snow. "You look weeeiiirrrd."

Snow cocked his head to the side at the random guy, who, now that he thought about it, reminded him of a stereotypical surfer.

"Bro, lemme tell you something," he put his arm around his shoulders and looked up meaningfully at the sky. He then looked back at Snow, and yelled in his ear. "IT'S ALMOST TWENTY-TWELVE BABY! YEAH!"

With that, the surfer dude ran off through the crowd, screaming.

"My, that young chap was rather odd, wasn't he?"

Snow whirled to where the voice came from, which was a bit pointless, considering the man was right in front of him.

"What do you have against odd people?" Snow glared at the man.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. The youth of today have always been quite odd, I suppose."

"So only young people can be odd? Is that it?"

"I – What? No, no, nothing like that at all."

"A likely story."

"I-" The man sighed, giving up. "Never mind. Happy New Year."

"IT'S NOT GOING TO BE HAPPY WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" Snow yelled after him as he quickly moved off. Meanwhile, the rest of the crowd went silent.

"You think so, President Snow?" A tentative voice called out.

"Well, the Mayans thought so!" Snow answered. "And everyone knows that ancient civilizations that did ritual sacrifices are super smart!"

More silence. Someone let out a cough.

"Oh, hey look, a countdown!" Snow called out, noting the large screen with thirty seconds left on the clock. Everyone suddenly burst into excited chatter.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to kiss someone when it's the New Year? Too bad I'm forever alone..."

"Oh. My. Gosh. New Year. I can't believe it's gonna be the New Year!"

"When this year is finally over, I swear, I am erasing it from my memory."

"Woo! Party! Yeah!" The guy's shouts paused. "Damn, I never thought that acting drunk would take so much _effort_."

"_Twenty!"_

"Maybe I could kiss one of my cats..."

"I love it when the year's all new and stuff!"

"Maybe if I try to hit on some girls I'll seem drunker..."

"_Fifteen!"_

"It's not like they have fleas or anything."

"Kinda how I like new boyfriends... They're just no fun when you've been dating the same guy for two days."

"Is this the time where I turn drunken swagger on?"

"_Ten!"_

"Oh, who am I kidding, the cat would scratch my face off."

"_Nine!"_

"Hmm, maybe I should just ditch this guy and find a new one."

"_Eight!"_

"OF COURSE I'M DRUNK!"

"_Seven!"_

"I swear, I am the poster boy for being forever alone."

"_Six!"_

"There's another good-looking guy over there..."

"_Five!"_

"I'M DRUNKER THAN HAYMITCH RIGHT NOW!"

"_Four!"_

"Maybe I should try not to be forever alone. It's kinda pathetic."

"_Three!"_

"I think I might go over to him."

"_Two!"_

"You want me to prove I'm drunk! FINE. Gimme a second."

"_ONE!"_

Before Snow could even shout 'Happy New Year Even-Though-You're-All-Gonna-Die' he was tackled to the ground by three people.

His first thought was; _Oh god, those fangirls have come back from the grave._

In reality, though, it was two guys and a girl. One of the guys was pretending to be drunk, and therefore, to prove himself, went to kiss President Snow for the New Year (Admit it, only a drunk person or an extremely devious pretending-to-be-drunk person would do that.) The girl was looking for a new boy-toy (And a free ticket to any mental institution on the planet) and the other guy was aiming for the girl.

"FANGIRLS! FANGIRLS!" Snow screamed at the top of his lungs, which had to be hard on him, considering the fact that he's old. He tried to push the trio, which was quickly turning into a mob, because they were pulling more and more people down into the pile.

Long story short, Snow was stuck.

"I TOLD YOU THE WORLD WAS ENDING!"

"So close..."

"I just want a new boyfriend."

"I TOLD YOU I WAS DRUNK!"

It was at that point that Snow passed out.

When he woke up, the street was deserted and being five in the morning, everyone was sleeping off the previous night.

Snow got to his feet and stumbled around.

"This is it," he mumbled. "The end of the world."

He paused, considering for a moment.

"I thought it was gonna wait until December 21st, but this'll do."

* * *

**A/N: So, I started writing this chapter on the third, then barely worked on it because I'm super fussy about people being behind me when I write. And the computer I write on is right next to the kitchen. In the busiest room of the house.**

**And the milkshake thing I mentioned at the start? My friends and I legitimately do that. It's completely disgusting. And on Youtube. If you search "OUR AMAAAAZING MILKSHAKE" and come up with a buch of people spitting out disgusting looking liquids, you found it. That one was at the end of 2010, which is the one with the oven spray in it. On the same channel should be 2011's one. Somewhere. That one has no oven spray.  
**

**Also, it's on my friend's Youtube account. Try guessing which one is me. (Hint: I'm not in the 2011 one because Sarah turned off the camera too early.)**

**But anyway, happy super-late new year. I hope you all had a good beginning to the year.**

**And never let someone put oven spray in your milkshake.  
**


	17. The Midnight Screening Saga I : Tickets

**A/N: Before I start, I wanted to inform you all that I bought a Mockingjay pin and I'm going to the Hunger Games midnight showing dressed as Madge.**

**And as a big in-your-face to all you people not in my country, New Zealand gets Hunger Games on the 22nd of March. And we're a day ahead, time-zone wise. **

**I have no idea what kind of logic that is, but really, I'm not complaining.**

**BUT I'M SO EXCITED. So President Snow will now become as crazy as a Hunger Games fangirl. **

**And Jessamine's back. I don't even know why I like her character so much.**

* * *

"He's been staring at that computer screen for days now."

"Why?"

"Who knows?"

Snow was rocking back and forth in front of the computer screen, muttering excitedly to himself. He looked as though he should be in a mental hospital, not the President's office.

His secretary checked her watch, then looked back up towards Snow. "It's almost midnight."

Jessamine groaned. "This is why I hate staying over here. You'd think he'd have more computers, but no, he's old and technologically challenged. Then he uses the only computer all night."

"OH MY GOSH TWO MINUTES!"

A pause.

"What even was that?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should go to bed, Jessamine."

"Uh, no. I don't do going to bed before my grandfather. Being a teenager doesn't work that way. It's all insomnia and chocolate and energy drinks."

Snow's secretary gave Jessamine a look, but then backed off. The girl had a major death glare.

"Can I get you anything, then?"

"Chocolate and an energy drink."

The secretary gave Jessamine another look, but then left, mumbling something about 'kids these days'.

"Gramps. What are you even doing?"

"Can't talk. Counting down."

Jessamine rolled her eyes. "Right."

"ONE MORE MINUTE!"

"How are we even related?"

"Why do you always ask that?" Snow didn't even look up.

"Because it's always a valid question," Jessamine pointed out.

Snow shrugged and picked up a phone.

"Who are you calling at this ti-"

"Hey, Seneca? It's me. There's only one more minute."

"Why are you-?" Jessamine started to ask.

"Yeah, I know, seats in the middle."

"Are you insane?" Jessamine almost shrieked.

"Your beard can't have its own seat."

Jessamine paused in mute confusion. "Yeah, you're definitely insane."

"OH MY GOD, IT'S MIDNIGHT."

Jessamine could hear the tinny excited reply on the other end. "OH MY BEARD."

President Snow clicked frantically.

"Seat selection – yes, there, good... Credit card?" He looked up. "Jessamine. Do you have your credit card?"

"Are you kidding me? You're the President. Charge it on the taxpayer like every other government official."

"Oh. Right." He clicked a few more times. "I GOT THE TICKETS."

"You got the tickets to what?" Jessamine finally asked, impatient.

"THE SEVENTY-FOURTH HUNGER GAMES MIDNIGHT PREMIERE."

Jessamine just looked at him. "Are you mildly retarded or something?"

"What?"

"You're already a guest of honor. Seneca too. You don't need to buy tickets."

"SHUT UP YOU'RE RUINING MY HYPE."

"Geez. I haven't seen you this excited since Finnick won his Games."

"It's just," Snow sniffled. "Peeta and Katniss are just meant to be together."

"Uh, okay."

"Seneca agrees," Snow pressed the speakerphone button on his phone. "Don't you?"

"Uh-huh. Having a hard time convincing Plutarch, though. He seems convinced on the side of Gale."

"Pfft. Gale dies."

"Are you two just secretly teenage girls or something?"

* * *

**A/N: I only just realised that Snow and Seneca totally ship Katniss/Peeta. Why else would Seneca allow the rule change and Snow try to push them together at the beginning of Catching Fire?**

**And for any of you who haven't actually finished reading the trilogy (If you haven't, I've totally spoiled it for you with some of the chapters before this, but anyway) Gale doesn't actually die. When Mockingjay came out, those of us who had read it would tell the others that Gale dies, then someone else would say he didn't. We messed with their minds so much.**

**I really didn't expect to update this so soon. But then I got bored. I probably should've written an essay, but this was way more fun.  
**

**Sorry it's so short. I hope the sheer amount of insanity makes up for it.**

**And yes, I will write a chapter of Snow and Seneca going to the midnight premiere.  
**

**Anyway, review, be excited for March 23rd (Or 22nd, in my case) and May the force be with you.**


	18. That Dreadful Machine

**A/N: So, I just had my first experience with paintball today. Ow. Playing with a bunch of insane guys really was poor planning on my part. But anyway. My friends and I were shouting to each other "Here's some advice: Stay alive" and "May the odds be ever in your favour" all day and it was great.**

**Also, as a side note, my spellcheck on this computer is set to New Zealand English, so American-English users, don't kill me.**

**This one's a suggestion from maxridefan1234. Yeah, the suggestion's from ages ago, but I have a list on my pinboard for when I feel like writing this. It's great, I just looked down it like "What is Snow going to do today?" Like a boss.**

* * *

The karaoke machine was the worst possible thing that could have been standing in that bar.

And yet, there it was.

Of course, there was no way its owner could've known that President Snow would come in. No way to know that he had a voice worse than a wailing baboon.

"Are you really sure coming in here is a good idea, sir?" The woman trailing behind Snow asked as they entered. "This is a, well it's a-"

"Dump!" Snow finished excitedly.

The fancily-dressed woman looked uncomfortable, wrinkling her nose. "Yes, well, I was going to use kinder words..."

Snow took a deep whiff of the bar's stench as if it were a store full of baking bread rather than a stodgy bar.

"Uh, sir, if I may ask, can I-?"

"You're dismissed. Or whatever."

The woman sighed in relief. "Thank-you. I'll see you later, sir."

And with that, she scurried out of the room like a brightly-coloured mouse.

Snow sat down at the bar, looking towards the man behind it. "How you doing, Emile?"

Emile nodded in answer. He looked like he was about to say something more, but the Snow spotted the soon-to-be abomination in the corner.

"That a karaoke machine, Emile?" he asked.

Emile looked suspicious. "Yeah. Five bucks will get you however long you want."

Snow quickly dug up a note out of his pocket and thrust it at Emile. Without another word, he practically skipped to the machine in the corner. He scrolled through selections for songs, and soon enough, he was singing.

And you know what song he sang?

_Roses are Red,_ by Aqua.

As in the nineties band.

Except Snow didn't sing _"Roses are red, violets are blue..."_

No, he switched out the 'red' for 'white'.

Emile looked up from behind the bar, looking at the five-dollar note in front of him. Wondering if he should've told Snow to go away, while he still had the chance.

But it was too late now.

Eventually, hours had passed. Snow had gotten through too many songs the sounded incredibly horrible. The bar had emptied out in disgust, except for one teenage girl who insisted that he had the voice of an angel. Emile looked at her strangely, but ultimately ignored the comment.

But when Snow broke into the song _Never Gonna Give You Up_, Emile had had enough.

"That's enough!"

"_We're no strangers to love!"_

"Snow, stop."

"_You know the rules, and so do I!"_

Emile's fists balled at his sides. "Get. Out."

Snow looked up from the little screen with the lyrics and missed the next line. "You said for as long as I want!"

"Yeah! You said he could stay on it as long as he wanted!"

"Shut up, fangirl."

Snow let out a high pitched squeak. "Fangirl?"

"OH MY GOD HE KNOWS MY NAME!"

Snow looked from Fangirl to the karaoke machine, then to Emile. He dropped the microphone.

"Bye, Emile," Snow said quickly, darting out of the bar.

Emile looked after him, perplexed. Also annoyed that he was left alone with the fangirl.

"Oh. My. God. You know Snow? Like, _really_ know him?" her voice was almost a squeal.

"Uh, sure," Emile scratched his neck uncomfortably.

"You could like, totes get me his number!"

Emile gave the girl a look. "Get. Out."

* * *

**A/N: Why yes, I did steal the name Emile from the book I'm studying in English.**

**But anyway. Snow can never escape the fangirls. Ever. Also, I apologise for the shortness. I just wanted to get another update in before I do the big Hunger Games premiere chapter, which I promise will be spoiler free.**

**Anyway, review, make my day, and help me procrastinate doing my science homework.**


	19. The Midnight Screening Saga II: Viewing

**A/N: THE MOVIE IS AMAZING.**

**THIS CHAPTER IS ALSO MOVIE SPOILER-FREE. You have no idea how hard it was to not mention the best bits.**

**Okay. Here it is. President Snow and Seneca Crane being fangirls.**

**Also, I was trying to write this earlier, but was a) too tired, b) too lazy, c) too addicted to online interviews with the cast and d) too busy wondering when I could see the movie again.**

**Also I'm incredibly lame.**

* * *

"Wow. Just wow."

"That is one long line."

"Can't you just call Presidential authority and push to the front?"

"Tried. They think we're just dressed up."

"But no-one can imitate the beard!"

"I know, Seneca. I know," President Snow patted him on the shoulder.

"That's the line for food? Seriously? I mean, yeah, _Hunger_ Games, but still," Seneca frowned.

"Come on. Let's try something," Snow pushed through the line The lobby of the theatre was crowded. "President and Head Gamemaker, official business."

Despite complaints, nobody moved to stop them. Probably too scared in case it was _actually_ President Snow. Good. They got to the front of the line in seconds, paid for popcorn and drinks, then left.

"I still can't believe this is happening!" Seneca burst as they lined up with food and tickets in hand.

"I know! It's gonna be amazing!"

"Did you seriously just say 'gonna'? When did you turn twelve?"

Snow turned around, startled by his granddaughter's voice.

"Hey, Jessamine," Seneca nodded in greeting. Snow just glared.

"So, what's the deal? We wait out here in an annoying line for ages instead of going to the special place marked 'President & Party'?" Jessamine asked, giving Snow a look.

"I want the fan experience," Snow muttered.

"So you want to become just like one of your fangirls?" she rolled her eyes. "You're nuts."

The mention of fangirls made Snow's eyes widen. "Where's the President place and how quickly can we get there?"

Jessamine smiled and pointed. "This way."

After a couple of minutes of pushing through excited crowds, they reached a door marked 'PRESIDENT SNOW'. Another few minutes passed, and Snow, Seneca and Jessamine were seated in a balcony at the back of the theatre, watching everyone else file into the 'peasant's seats' as Snow called them. Until Jessamine pointed out that he was intending to sit there in the beginning.

"I really hope they do the beard justice," Seneca said, almost to himself.

"You're worried about your beard? What about my roses?"

"How do you even get roses wrong?" Jessamine gave her grandfather an 'are-you-retarded' look.

President Snow glared at her defensively. "It could happen!"

"What about the actors? What if they're all wrong?" Seneca burst.

"Would you two just relax? And I swear, if you start shouting in the middle of the movie, I will kill you," Jessamine gave both men a look.

Snow opened his mouth to reply but was silenced by lights dimming.

"OH MY GOD THIS IS IT SOMEBODY HOLD ME!"

President Snow and Seneca looked at each other sheepishly – they'd shouted the exact same thing simultaneously.

Jessamine rolled her eyes. "It's previews. Calm down."

Eventually, though, the previews passed and logos for the movie everyone had come to see. The next two and a half hours went by in a blur of flames, green-ness and, well, Hunger Games. Snow and Seneca cried about five times each. Jessamine told them to man up.

"That was just... I can't even put it into words."

"How about _'amazing'_?"

"Yeah, that works."

"I can't believe you two cried," Jessamine looked at the pair of Seneca and Snow.

"Don't judge us because Katniss and Peeta are meant to be."

"I'm still judging you for crying-"

"DON'T EVEN MENTION THAT SCENE TO ME I MIGHT CRY AGAIN," Snow shouted.

"You just bought on another wave of judging."

"Shut up," Snow looked around, noting the crowds of people walking out of the theatre with them. The walked out to a car out the front, happily babbling about the film.

"I'm just happy the beard was good."

"Of course you were, Seneca."

* * *

**A/N: I have way too many dance-parties while writing.**

**If you can guess the spoiler line I really wanted to write at the end there, you get twenty-thousand points and a cookie baked by Peeta. **

**As a side note, I went to a midnight premiere, but because my country is lame when it comes to fangirling, only me and a few of my friends dressed up. And we were the only ones dressed up in the entire theatre. But we had Madge, Effie, Katniss, Peeta and Cinna. It was awesome. The friend who dressed up as Cinna told people they were on fire.**

**I also feel as though I could write an essay on my thoughts on this movie. Actually. The movie was amazing. The entire cast was amazing. I want to see the movie again so much. To anyone who hasn't seen it already, my advice is (stay alive) to not hold on to the book too much. Yes, it is true to the book, but it's also a completely different experience. Also, complain about tiny things, like my friend complaining about the camera angle on District Twelve's fence, I will hit you.**

**Wow long author's notes. Short chapter. Oops. Okay.**

**Review? **


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